Tragedy
by JaneRoth
Summary: She's tragic,' Scorpius sniggered. 'Perfectly tragic,' he added cruelly. He lifted his eyes to the object of conversation and willed himself to smile at her. 'It will be easy. This is how it should be, anyways,' he said inaudibly before moving to stand.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and all affiliated terms and characters.**

Prologue

Scorpius descended the steps of Malfoy Manor towards the ballroom. He had woken to the sound of a woman's shrieking and the laughter of another. When he stepped from his room and walked down the hall, passing by large open windows that cast the light of the moon across the marble floors, he could hear the woman crying.

He was fixated on a figure dressed in pale blue silk, short blonde hair glistening colourlessly on his head; the body bent over and hands over face.

He frowned, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

'Father, is that you?' He said, moving forward to the crouching figure.

Mr. Malfoy lifted his head precariously and Scorpius was aghast at the look of utter petulance on his face and the expression of horror that clouded the disposition of a stately man. It lasted for only a second and at once Scorpius was fraught with the question of whether the expression had even existed.

He stood, his long pale blue robe falling against his body. 'You're awake, Scorpius,' he said, turning to look at him.

Scorpius clenched his jaw shortly, staring into his father's pale eyes.

'I heard screaming,' Scorpius clarified, shifting slightly.

Mr. Malfoy furrowed his brow in perplexity. 'Screaming?' He asked.

Scorpius nodded. 'And laughing,' he added. He turned his head to trail his eyes across the glistening moon-pale floors. 'What happened?' He said, returning his eyes to his father's face which had justly returned to a look of unease.

He could hear words falling in the air between them, his father flicking through his thoughts and his decisions of what to say, what would be the appropriate answer to his question.

Mr. Malfoy was a Legilimens, and his son was learning.

'What happened?!' Scorpius said in an urgent whisper. 'Father, please, I'm sixteen. I think I deserve the right to know what happened here and why you always act so strange at this time of year.'

Mr. Malfoy regarded his son in a cool manner before turning away from him to look up to the scaffolding where rows of windows stood pressed into the high walls.

'You can hear my thoughts, can't you? When you're sleeping you dream what I dream. You cry out with my pain. I wish I had the strength in myself to have hidden my miseries from you. But, this time of year is always the same.'

Scorpius nodded, 'Yes, it is.'

At this time of year Scorpius was subject to the same feeling, ever since his father first began teaching him of Occulmency and Legilimency when he turned fifteen.

'I'm not sure if I should tell you,' Mr. Malfoy said. 'What would your mother think if she were to find out that I told you such a horrible story?'

'She would have to understand. I'm almost an adult; I'm not a little boy anymore. I have my own thoughts and my own wishes and desires. I know what I want, what I will do, who I love and the extent I would go for them,' Scorpius said in a rush, stopping to catch his breath. He furrowed his brow. 'Father, please tell me.'

Mr. Malfoy turned to face his son, his face one of pure torture, his jaw clenched tightly. It was so that Scorpius could feel the tension of it through the breadth of the room and the dimensions of the mind.

"There was this girl," he began.

Please review, this is just the prologue and I hope it was good. I will write more, because writing is _really_ fun, though I'm not quite as good as I'd like. Thank you =]


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter One

Scorpius followed her with his eyes as she walked onto the platform with her family behind her, her robes already on; a characteristic she'd obtained throughout the years of her attendance at Hogwart's.

He wasn't entirely convinced with his father's story, and yet he couldn't seriously dismiss it. He looked at her mother with her soft brown curls and large brown eyes and honestly couldn't believe that she had been put through such a horrible ordeal, yet could speak so fluently and with such vitality and that it didn't seem to matter that the son of a Death Eater was occupying the same space as her daughter and son.

He clicked his tongue in ire.

_She should hate me_, he thought cogently, _she should be wary of me. I am just like my father._

"Scorpius, what are you looking at?"

He blinked, turning his eyes to Margo who watched him intently and with her brow drawn. Her dark eyes surveyed him with cunning sleekness. "The other students," he replied easily, making a show of trailing his eyes over the crowds. "I'm curious to observe changes," he clarified with a sigh when he saw her expression. "Please, Margo, don't attend to me so diligently. I'm not _yours_." He was constantly annoyed with her cognitive explorations. She knew too much about the workings of the unconscious and luckily for him, always being conscious was a teaching of Occlumency.

She glowered at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're father seems to think we would make a good pair."

"Yes, well, I'm not looking for good," he said crossly. "I'm looking for excellent."

She exhaled angrily. "Scorpius, that isn't fair!" She stomped her feet childishly and it served to make him vastly aware of the eyes that turned on them and the adverse feelings directed on his person.

He glared at her. "No, it _isn't_ fair that I have to choose between _you_ and another witch. I'm not willing to make a decision anytime soon, so please, deal with it quietly. I don't need you to make a scene of it."

He turned away from her and walked with intention towards the compartment doors. He could feel her anger at him and he couldn't find it in himself to care much for it, or for her. She was annoying at best and downright unbearable at worst. He surprised himself with the strength he showed in keeping up his contact with her.

"Scorpius, hold on!"

He cursed in annoyance and stopped abruptly before the lift. He schooled his features and turned to face his pursuer. He hid his astonishment quickly when he saw Rose running towards him the short distance between her family and the train.

She smiled as she came to a stop just in front of him; her red hair bouncing against her shoulders. "I just wanted to ask you if you received Head Boy," she dropped her midnight blue eyes to his chest and realized with embarrassment that he had yet to put on his robes and was still wearing his "insidious" Muggle clothes (insidious because they were supposed to be the teenage wear of the times and that was what the store clerk had called them). She lifted her eyes to his face and grinned sheepishly. "Have you?"

He nodded curtly, glancing nervously behind her to where her family stood conversing playfully with each other. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he observed them. "Won't your father commit murder if he sees you speaking to me?"

She laughed. "Please, that's ridiculous." He couldn't help but notice the slight nervous jilt to her laugh but ignored the contemplation.

He raised his brow at her in poignant disbelief. "Really? It didn't seem that ridiculous during first year when I offered to sit beside you in potions."

She flushed, looking down at her feet. "Um, yes...I was worried about you and Albus. He was quite resistant to sitting beside you. I didn't want a fight."

"Did I look like one to put up a fight?" He asked. "Well, I probably knew more spells than either of you," he added, with a slight smirk. "So, what _would_ your father do if he caught you being friendly with a Malfoy?" He asked taking a step closer to her so that their toes were touching.

Her gaze flickered to his before flitting to a hundred other directions. "Nothing, I don't think. I suppose he's accepted that you're just like every other person in the world, you...just don't have the breeding he would like you to have in order for me to speak to you. It's just paternal prejudices; he's like that with every boy I talk to now." She looked up.

"I suppose I deserve that," he said slowly. "But I'm not taught how to strangle animals and purposely light Muggles on fire." At least not since his grandfather died.

She burst out laughing, a slow bubbling laugh that made his insides go aflutter.

He swallowed thickly, watching her brush her wild hair over her shoulders. His eyes dropped to the shiny yellow pin under her Gryffindor crest. He was lured in by the reflecting light and took the distraction to ogle.

"I regret not talking to you," she said suddenly and he forced himself to lift his gaze a little higher. "I know this may sound so strange and it is sort of embarrassing." She laughed again.

He corrected his posture and waited. "Yes?"

She swayed back on the heels of her shoes and grinned. "I had a huge crush on you in fourth year, silly, huh?"

He smiled. "Did you? _Well_, that is silly. But, I don't understand what's so embarrassing about it. I mean, you probably only obsessed about every little detail. I bet you know every word I said on a given day, the days I brushed too close, said your name." He was well aware his voice had dropped an octave or two.

She laughed suddenly, breaking the spell that was his voice. He could feel her anxiety with the conversation and what direction it may take. "Oh, hush. Don't tell me you've never been obsessed over anyone."

"I haven't," he replied honestly and coolly. "You can't honestly tell me you don't know my reputation." He smirked. "I'm not quite as innocent as a school girl."

She grinned knowingly. "I've heard of the snogging, but that was only in my Astronomy classes," she said. "Isla Hitchens was quite in love with you last year," she said teasingly.

He made a face. "That was my mistake; I should have known her disposition." And her incredible lack of substance.

"Well, she should have known yours," she replied in defence of him.

He smiled. "That is quite a remark. Don't you like Isla?" He tapped the tip of her shoe with his.

"Yes, but she should have know. I did." She looked away thoughtfully. "Tell me, how would you feel about us being friends this year? Headmaster Fife told my mother over the summer that all prefects share dorms, so it would be easy to hang out—not that I wouldn't hang out with you in public, or anything." She blushed. "I'm not like that," she added.

Scorpius nodded and glanced over her shoulder again. He sniggered. "You're cousin really hates my guts." He said this to deflect the conversation from the idea of friendship and his increasing excitement.

Rose turned her head to look at Albus. When she looked back at him she laughed. "No, he doesn't. He's just protective. We're close like that."

He didn't argue and just nodded. He clearly perceived that Albus really wanted to Avada Kedavra his ass...or at least Crucio it.

He grimaced.

"Is something wrong?"

He looked down at Rose. Her face was screwed up in concern and he honestly couldn't understand it.

"Do I look like my father?" He asked, hoping it would help explain things for him.

She frowned. "What?"

He swallowed thickly. "Do I look like my father, Rose?" He repeated.

She was silent for a moment. "No," she replied at last. "I mean, you have his colouring, but you look like your mother. You have her delicate nose and large eyes. You're jaw is more defined; I don't quite know who to put that to. You have his mouth, I think. You're mother's lips are thin."

"That's enough," he said shortly. "I think I'll go grab myself a seat, I'll see you in awhile." He bowed and turned from her.

He could feel her embarrassment at being left alone. But he wouldn't care. It was obvious she didn't know about the events of Malfoy Manor or else she wouldn't have spoken to him so kindly.

_Bloody Death Eater_, he heard Albus think ardently as he stowed into the train. He felt his insides tense.

_Logic is a necessity in philosophy. Think of this argument I have constructed:_

_If Adam in sinful then all men are sinful_

_Adam is sinful_

_Therefore, all men are sinful._

He reached his reserved compartment and threw the door open. The blinds fell across the windows and he sat, leaning over himself as he gasped for air. He screwed his eyes shut as voices bombarded his mind and misconstrued him.

"Stop," he gasped. "Please." He grasped his head, clutching fistfuls of his pale blonde hair with fair fingers.

The voices suddenly halted and he relaxed.

"If Adam is sinful then all men are sinful, Adam is sinful, therefore, all men are sinful..." he whispered. "Blood fuck no," he said in disagreement. "If the father is sinful then the son is sinful, the father is sinful, therefore the son is sinful," he murmured.

"What does it matter? How can one be so forgiving and loyal at the same time? How can one forgo the sinful activities of another and still love the other? It doesn't make sense and yet I am apt to believe it. If the father is sinful then the son is sinful, if the mother is virtuous then the daughter is virtuous..." He sat up, dropping his hands from his head. "What reasoning can I have for her willingness to speak to me other than that she does not know my faults? I am my father's son and I yet I am not impressionable, yet I would commit all the sins my father is accused of for his exact same reasons. Yet there is no redemption for such actions." He slid over in his seat to the window that would overlook the platform and he peeked through the blinds.

He caught sight of her immediately. It was her hair, he thought. Her hair was like a beacon, it shone in the dim lighting as though it were true fire. It was her smile. It lit up the air around her and she glowed with the sweetness of it. She was loveliness personified.

He pulled away and breathed deeply, trying to settle his excited heart as it pulsed quickly in his chest. He sighed quietly, stooping in his seat and closed his eyes.

"She is a rose, so sweetly bound to edifices of romance and superficial love. Yet, roses also denote passion, friendship, forgiveness, and all other lovely meanings and significances. And I am a star, a bringer of both fortune and disaster. I am the constellation who slew the moon's lover. I am so hated and despised, and love cannot occur for me. Yet, I cannot help but wish it.

"Sweet smelling rose," he murmured. "By any other name you would smell as sweet; if you were of a different descent I would love you passionately." He wrinkled his nose. "What am I saying?" I shifted in his seat so that he was lying across it; he stared up at the roof of the cart. He felt tense and wantonly so. "I should hate her. I cannot have her."

He closed his eyes and conjured up her image in his mind.

"And she should hate me yet she does not. So I will make her hate me so that she will also stand in the way of my happiness."

_I deserve no better; I am the son of the dragon and the star._

"And she is the rose whose thorns have been cut and who stands emboldened in a glass casing where my light cannot reach, and my darkness does not hope to trespass."

A/N: So, how was the second chapter? Of course, I hope they will be much longer in the future. I'm not good with the lengthening of the chapters. Of course, it can't be helped when a chapter must end on a certain note. I might ramble like this sometimes. Please review, they are greatly appreciated. Especially the constructive criticism, I love it. Thank you. =]


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See either chapter one or the prologue. Thank you.**

Chapter Two

Scorpius licked his lips absently as he waited for the former head prefects to him and Rose to go over the summary of their new positions. He thought that if he had graduated from Hogwart's that he would not come back to do the same thing. He was entirely above that, and besides that fact, he would be somewhere less cold and abominable than London. Abominable because it was rather smoky and he had a hacking cough on the way through the streets to the train station.

"Um...I seem to have misplaced my notes," the boyish McGill said sheepishly, rummaging through the pockets of his work robes.

"Did my father give you leave, McGill?" Scorpius asked coolly as he lay back in his seat. He ignored the discomfort he felt coming off Rose and pushed her out with his rather limited skills in Occlumency.

McGill flushed, biting his lip nervously. "Um, yes, he did. But, I have to get back shortly."

"Before the train leaves I hope. It's already quarter to eleven," Scorpius made a show of looking at his watch. He realized with an idle frown that he didn't wear one, but that didn't matter. He flicked his sleeve in place to conceal that fact. He returned his gaze to the boy—he didn't deserve to be called a man, slipshod as he was.

"Um, yes, well..." McGill responded anxiously, pulling at the neck of his white cotton shirt. Scorpius thought it looked a little too tight, even for a ministry worker.

"Oh, Harris," the female interrupted in a voice lacquered with her annoyance. She stood up from her seat across from them and gave them a tense smile before speaking. "Please, you two, I shall summarize it," -She waved her hands through the air in a dramatic fashion- "Though I can't quite remember everything we had to do last year, being organised is at the top of the list and so is sharing duties. You will have to set up the patrolling schedules and it is most affluent if you pair up yourselves. You will have to _do_ reports _and_ receive reports, on everything from detentions being handed out to reports of mischief." She turned to Rose. "I heard James gifted you with a special object, you may use it Rose. That is really all there is to tell." She grinned and clapped her hands out in front of her, as if it made up for all the time they had just wasted.

Scorpius glared. "Are you serious? We waited ten minutes for McGill to find his papers when all we needed to know was_ that_?"

She blushed. "Yes, well...you're quite intimidating, Scorpius. You're father is my superior also, as well as McGill's."

"Like I care, you just wasted precious time," Scorpius said angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. He had yet to put his robes on, and he wondered _why_ they thought him so intimidating. He was wearing bloody muggle clothes.

Rose raised her brow at him. "Time for what, Scorpius? I was under the impression that your family had already bid you adieu."

He gave her a condescending look. "I have other things I've been meaning to do before I have to leave. For instance, finding my younger sister seems to be at the top of that list."

Rose's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't know you had a sister," she said in astonishment.

He shrugged before standing up. "Well, I'm sure McGill here, and...I don't quite know your name, Miss..."

"Carrington," she said icily, holding out her hand for him.

He took it and shook it once before bowing. "Well, as I was saying," he turned to Rose, "McGill and Carrington can fill you in about her. McGill, you start." He exited quickly and shut the compartment door behind him before going to look for said sister of his.

"He doesn't really have a sister, does he?" Rose asked.

McGill pursed his lips.

"Narcisse, there you are, making friends?" Scorpius asked as he closed in on a thin girl with straight silky blonde hair that reached her mid-back and eyes that shone with a strange childish wonder. He smiled uneasily and looked around at the students she'd been speaking to.

She smiled at him. "Yes, this is Theo Knott," she said pointing to dark-haired wizard with square-rimmed glasses and stunningly green eyes. He was vaguely reminded of Albus, but quickly banished the thought and listened to the rest of the introductions. "This is Theone, his twin sister and lastly, Victoria Levefre."

Scorpius nodded, smiling at each of them. He kept his mind blank lest he possibly wring the neck of the boy who was watching him with careless eyes. "Nice to meet you all," he said coolly. "I'll see you at dinner, Narcisse." He leant down to place a small kiss on her cheek.

"Bye," she said, her smile clearly ringing in her voice.

He walked away back to the compartment. Suddenly he was aware of _someone's_ hand pulling him back by the hem of his "insidious" shirt.

He turned around.

Shite, he thought.

"Hey, Scorpius," Isla Hitchens said in a low voice that was purely meant to arouse him into an illicit engagement.

He smiled weakly. "Hello, Hitchens," he said, hoping to dissuade her from her attack on him by calling her by her last name.

"I told you that you can call me Isla," she said, dropping her hand from his shirt. "We did snog, after all."

"About that..."he started slowly. "You must have known that I wouldn't stick to you. I'm not like that. I don't stay with girls for extended periods of time..."

She nodded, dropping her gaze to the ground between them. "You mean, of course, that I don't have enough substance, right? Because, guys like you are looking for brains _and_ action in a woman." Her voice was cold.

"I would ask you to prove you can be those things, but you've had seven years," he replied. He didn't want to lead her on. He would leave that for Rose alone. He would have to. He didn't think he had quite enough cruelty in him to do that to two girls he didn't actually mind.

She glared at him defiantly. "If you look up the student register you'll see that I'm only behind Dean Porter."

"And Dean Porter is in what place? Wasn't it 106th?" He clenched his jaw. He hadn't meant to sound so callous.

She flushed. "I like you," she said, quietly. "Why don't you like me?"

"I'm not interested," he said with annoyance. He sighed. "Go join a fan club; Margo is holding one of particular interest and girth."

"Oh, right," she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Is she really going to marry you when you two graduate?"

Scorpius frowned. "Yes and no, but I'm not really decided on it yet. It is, of course, preferable for me to marry a pureblood. But mother wants one of our colourings, and she's quite far from that point."

He noticed with increasing alarm that Isla had extremely blond hair and grey eyes. He sighed.

"She has to be a pureblood if all of that stuff matters," he clarified before her hopes could be raised even further. It was common knowledge that a witch in possession of great body was in want of a pureblood husband, or something along those Jane Austen-esque lines.

Her face fell. "Right, I'm not a pureblood," she said and sighed. "Whatever, bye Scorpius." She gave him a weak smile before passing him unto the lift.

"If you speak to Margo I'm sure she will console you," he said after her.

She raised her brow at him and he smiled. She smiled back when she realized he was teasing her. He watched her walk into the corridor and hastily followed suit through another entrance that was nearby where it would be possible he would avoid such meetings.

He relaxed once in his private compartment.

It lasted for exactly ten seconds before the door was thrown open and three of his pureblood erratic friends strolled in with the pretences of inquiring after his worldly exploits of the summer, of which he was granted notice by a letter tied to the leg of a ruffled orange owl that, he was quite sure, hadn't originally been that colour.

He regarded them momentarily before sliding over in his seat to make room for them.

"Harrows, Felix, Henley," he addressed them.

He looked at Arturo Harrows who was fair and had pale yellow eyes-he was the grandson of the first years Broomstick Class, Davey Felix sat beside him, a head taller with brown hair and dark hooded eyes. Geoff Henley took the liberty of sitting beside him and immediately began surveying him with his quiet stare that was intensified by a pair of ice-like blue eyes.

"How was your summer?" He asked, yawning slightly behind his hand.

"Great," Harrows replied candidly a grin stretching out across his lips. "That Amelia Taylor, you know her? She's the Ravenclaw seeker from last year-"

"Extremely skinny, that one?" Scorpius asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Sod off, Hype, she's got a really great personality," Harrows admonished.

"Because that's what we really came in here to talk about," Felix cut in with a loud guffaw.

Henley snickered. "Who'd you hook up with this summer, Davey?" He asked in a coy voice.

Felix flushed. "Um, well...I took a girl on a date...to one of those muggle moving picture things."

Scorpius laughed loudly. "You went on a date with a girl and you did a_ muggle_ thing?!"

His flush became deeper. "Well, she wanted to. It wasn't so bad. I would do it again," he said in his defence. "I went with that Lily girl."

Scorpius stopped laughing; as did the other boys and they stared at an extremely red David.

"And you're still alive?" Henley asked incredulously. Suddenly he shrunk back against the seat. "Please, don't tell me you're an Inferius, I had bloody nightmares about those after Professor Garrison told us about them."

Felix glared. "I'm not. The Potters don't deal in dark magic."

Scorpius snorted, but only for effect.

"Isn't she one quarter muggle?" He asked.

Felix sighed and rolled his eyes. "My parents aren't like yours. They don't care what the blood status of my girlfriend is-"

"_So_, you've made it official?" Harrows cut in.

Felix nodded once.

Scorpius grinned. "_Well_, this does have cause for celebration. First of all, you're _alive_, and second, you're doing a Potter."

Henley and Harrows hooted in agreement, leaving Felix incredibly frustrated.

Scorpius watched him idly as Henley and Harrows talked animatedly together. He was curious with the relationship between someone like Felix, all Slytherin-y and such, and a famous witch from Gryffindor who wasn't at all Slytherin-y and such.

"How did you do it?" He asked finally.

They all turned to stare at him this time and he waited patiently for Felix to answer him.

"I just asked her to tutor me in Transfigurations, she's really good at it and I was really shoddy. We just...talked, I don't know...we hit it off I guess."

Harrows cast him a belligerent stare. "And you were laughing at me when I said I liked Amelia?"

Scorpius snorted in amusement. "That's different, Artie, Potter has a brain."

He frowned. "Seekers have brains," he protested.

"Okay, they eat."

He flushed.

Scorpius smirked. "Just kidding, Artie."

"It wasn't funny," he muttered.

It was a while still before they reached Hogsmead and Scorpius had taken to reading, not something he found quite engaging, but it was better than joining in with a conversation circling on rubber contraceptives that the Muggles used. He really felt sorry for them.

"What is your take, Hype?" Harrows asked, turning to him with his hawk-eyes.

Scorpius looked up, frowning. "What was that?" He said.

"Would you wear one of those rubber things?"

Scorpius almost gaped when Harrows took the initiative to demonstrate said task using his wand and finger.

Scorpius glared at him. "You know I wouldn't. Contraceptive charms work just as well."

"What about those diseases. I mean, isn't there a chance we'd contract them too?"

"I'd rather not talk about the unnecessary details of my sex life," he cut in angrily. "Why does it matter, anyways? The only girl I've had any particular interest in isn't quite the best choice for me."

Harrows frowned. "Who is that?"

Scorpius flushed. "Margo," he said quickly.

_Shite._

"Margo?" Henley laughed. "I thought you hated her, like _hated_ her."

"Not to mention she _is_ the best choice for you," Felix stated, frowning at him. "Are you lying? You don't have to, we won't make fun of—well, we might make fun of you, but you know we really accept your choice."

Scorpius bit his lip and glanced at the faces around him. He sighed. "I can't," he put his head in his hands. "I can't like her, I shouldn't _like_ her."

"Let me guess, is she a Hufflepuff?"

The four boys burst out laughing.

But Scorpius was inwardly cursing.

A Hufflepuff would have definitely been better.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading =], please review, because I enjoy feedback.


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